9th of Saun, 713
Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"
The quick pitter patter of feet, light on the brush of the forest floor, disrupted the otherwise tranquil nature of the forest that covered Outside Island.
This was a common exercise for Quiet. One he had practiced since he was a boy. Bouncing through the forest, the brush, making as little noise or impact as possible. It was an easy way to practice the flexibility of one's mind, both as an acrobatic practice but also as a meditative one. The placement of the rocks, the roots, the patches of dead leaves, all of this must be noted, understood, remembered, and reacted to in a span of time shorter than the time required to take a breath.
Often enough, Quiet would run these paths he had beaten alone. Today, however, he presented for himself a challenge.
Today, he brought Big.
Big was the same age as Quiet, and the two always had a kinship. It worked out naturally. Big was hardworking and ambitious, but too much was expected of him, and he failed often. And when he failed often, it was Quiet who would protect him. Whether it be from scorn or physical punishment, Quiet was there, whenever he could manage.
Although Big was perhaps not the best with his meditation, his strength, or his abilities with his quarterstaff, there was one thing Big surpassed so many others at.
And that was his acrobatic skills.
Quiet struggled to keep up with Big’s speed, let alone his lateral prowess.
As Big took high jumps and bounded off trees, Quiet could only follow, noting Big’s posture and his poise. He was impressive. He had practiced.
Quiet liked to consider himself well trained, and well balanced. He liked the think he was somewhat well centered, but keeping up with Big was making his lungs burn.
In an instant, Big made a sharp turn towards the shore, and Quiet, not fully anticipating the change, struggled to shift direction, his feet sliding on the forest floor. He caught himself with his hand, got his feet back under him, and followed Big to the beaches of Outside.
Big stood quietly at the shore, as if he were awaiting Quiet’s arrival.
Big was cheeky like that.
When Quiet arrived, Big turned.
Hurt yourself? he signed.
Quiet grinned, planting a friendly dig on Big’s shoulder before sitting down, the ocean on his side, facing Big, as they typically did. Big, in response sat down adjacent.
Before we meditate, I want to show you something, Big signed.
Quiet stared at him inquisitively.
I learned it from my mother. He continued.
Did she teach it to you? Quiet signed.
Big smiled.
Did you steal knowledge from your mother?
Big smiled wider.
Stealing knowledge from a master of The Gift is a punishable offence!
No one will know, Quiet.
But if they find out,
Just let me show you.
Quiet ceased his arguing, allowing Big to do what he needed to do to feel fulfilled.
Big quieted himself, closing his eyes and focusing on meditation. Quiet almost expected Big to levitate off the ground.
It was something much more sacrilegious, however.
“Big.” He said, his voice scratchy and underused, raspy and unpracticed.
What? Quiet signed frantically.
“Big,” Big said, signing along to his words to help Quiet understand.
Quiet was astonished. He had never seen or heard anything like this.
“There was a book, underneath the floorboards.” Big continued. “I have been reading it for hundreds of arcs.”
But how?
“Sometimes, mother will speak, and I can tell what passage she’s reading from. I learned the rules to speak from that, and then it was all just practice from there.”
Why are you showing me this?
“Because I want you to try it.”
Quiet felt a chill go down his spine.
“Please?”
Why?
“For the sake of exploration.” Big said.
Quiet was dumbfounded. He had never heard anything like that. In New Haven, exploration was considered a meaningless pursuit. There was nothing to be explored. The island was completely mapped out, and leaving its boundaries, of course, was not permitted. Exploration was a relic of the arcs that no one could remember. It was meaningless now.
Okay. Quiet signed.
He wasn’t sure why he signed it. He wasn’t sure why he agreed. Perhaps there was something in him that truly desired to learn the definition of exploration. Perhaps he desired to learn.
Or perhaps he simply enjoyed watching Big’s face light up like sun on morning water.
Repeat after me, Big signed.
Quiet. Big signed.
Quiet. Quiet repeated.
“Quiet.” Big said.
“Qui-” Quiet began, interrupted by a coughing fit.
“That is okay, it happened to me the first time as well.”
Although seemingly unremarkable, this is a day that would resonate forever with Quiet. It wasn’t that Big was teaching Quiet how to speak common, it wasn’t that it was the first time he had broken the rules, but it was the first time he felt the desire to change his fate, and refuse to be a product of convention. Countless, endless generations had come and gone from New Haven, unchanging, unaltering. Roles decided, played, carried through, and retired upon death. He had found pride in being a worthy addition to New Haven. He had found pride in having pride taken in him. In being a functioning piece in the machination that was New Haven.
Today was the first day he could remember wherein he had seen something bigger for himself.
“Quiet.” He said.
“Yes!”
“Quiet.”
“Now try ‘I am Quiet’”
“Iyam Quiet.”
“... Sure!”
Something larger than New Haven.
But Quiet hadn’t learned the word for destiny yet.
Signing
"Signing while speaking"
"Speaking"
The quick pitter patter of feet, light on the brush of the forest floor, disrupted the otherwise tranquil nature of the forest that covered Outside Island.
This was a common exercise for Quiet. One he had practiced since he was a boy. Bouncing through the forest, the brush, making as little noise or impact as possible. It was an easy way to practice the flexibility of one's mind, both as an acrobatic practice but also as a meditative one. The placement of the rocks, the roots, the patches of dead leaves, all of this must be noted, understood, remembered, and reacted to in a span of time shorter than the time required to take a breath.
Often enough, Quiet would run these paths he had beaten alone. Today, however, he presented for himself a challenge.
Today, he brought Big.
Big was the same age as Quiet, and the two always had a kinship. It worked out naturally. Big was hardworking and ambitious, but too much was expected of him, and he failed often. And when he failed often, it was Quiet who would protect him. Whether it be from scorn or physical punishment, Quiet was there, whenever he could manage.
Although Big was perhaps not the best with his meditation, his strength, or his abilities with his quarterstaff, there was one thing Big surpassed so many others at.
And that was his acrobatic skills.
Quiet struggled to keep up with Big’s speed, let alone his lateral prowess.
As Big took high jumps and bounded off trees, Quiet could only follow, noting Big’s posture and his poise. He was impressive. He had practiced.
Quiet liked to consider himself well trained, and well balanced. He liked the think he was somewhat well centered, but keeping up with Big was making his lungs burn.
In an instant, Big made a sharp turn towards the shore, and Quiet, not fully anticipating the change, struggled to shift direction, his feet sliding on the forest floor. He caught himself with his hand, got his feet back under him, and followed Big to the beaches of Outside.
Big stood quietly at the shore, as if he were awaiting Quiet’s arrival.
Big was cheeky like that.
When Quiet arrived, Big turned.
Hurt yourself? he signed.
Quiet grinned, planting a friendly dig on Big’s shoulder before sitting down, the ocean on his side, facing Big, as they typically did. Big, in response sat down adjacent.
Before we meditate, I want to show you something, Big signed.
Quiet stared at him inquisitively.
I learned it from my mother. He continued.
Did she teach it to you? Quiet signed.
Big smiled.
Did you steal knowledge from your mother?
Big smiled wider.
Stealing knowledge from a master of The Gift is a punishable offence!
No one will know, Quiet.
But if they find out,
Just let me show you.
Quiet ceased his arguing, allowing Big to do what he needed to do to feel fulfilled.
Big quieted himself, closing his eyes and focusing on meditation. Quiet almost expected Big to levitate off the ground.
It was something much more sacrilegious, however.
“Big.” He said, his voice scratchy and underused, raspy and unpracticed.
What? Quiet signed frantically.
“Big,” Big said, signing along to his words to help Quiet understand.
Quiet was astonished. He had never seen or heard anything like this.
“There was a book, underneath the floorboards.” Big continued. “I have been reading it for hundreds of arcs.”
But how?
“Sometimes, mother will speak, and I can tell what passage she’s reading from. I learned the rules to speak from that, and then it was all just practice from there.”
Why are you showing me this?
“Because I want you to try it.”
Quiet felt a chill go down his spine.
“Please?”
Why?
“For the sake of exploration.” Big said.
Quiet was dumbfounded. He had never heard anything like that. In New Haven, exploration was considered a meaningless pursuit. There was nothing to be explored. The island was completely mapped out, and leaving its boundaries, of course, was not permitted. Exploration was a relic of the arcs that no one could remember. It was meaningless now.
Okay. Quiet signed.
He wasn’t sure why he signed it. He wasn’t sure why he agreed. Perhaps there was something in him that truly desired to learn the definition of exploration. Perhaps he desired to learn.
Or perhaps he simply enjoyed watching Big’s face light up like sun on morning water.
Repeat after me, Big signed.
Quiet. Big signed.
Quiet. Quiet repeated.
“Quiet.” Big said.
“Qui-” Quiet began, interrupted by a coughing fit.
“That is okay, it happened to me the first time as well.”
Although seemingly unremarkable, this is a day that would resonate forever with Quiet. It wasn’t that Big was teaching Quiet how to speak common, it wasn’t that it was the first time he had broken the rules, but it was the first time he felt the desire to change his fate, and refuse to be a product of convention. Countless, endless generations had come and gone from New Haven, unchanging, unaltering. Roles decided, played, carried through, and retired upon death. He had found pride in being a worthy addition to New Haven. He had found pride in having pride taken in him. In being a functioning piece in the machination that was New Haven.
Today was the first day he could remember wherein he had seen something bigger for himself.
“Quiet.” He said.
“Yes!”
“Quiet.”
“Now try ‘I am Quiet’”
“Iyam Quiet.”
“... Sure!”
Something larger than New Haven.
But Quiet hadn’t learned the word for destiny yet.
)
